


Pour Ne Pas Vivre Seul

by paperscribe



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Late Night Conversations, M/M, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperscribe/pseuds/paperscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lewis had been encouraging Hathaway to bring his guitar sometime when they had drinks at Lewis's flat, and finally, one night, Hathaway complied.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pour Ne Pas Vivre Seul

Lewis had been encouraging Hathaway to bring his guitar sometime when they had drinks at Lewis's flat, and finally, one night, Hathaway complied.

"I'm not sure what I'm meant to do," Hathaway said. "Am I sitting here entertaining you, or…?"

"Of course not," Lewis said. "I just wanted to hear you play on your own sometime, since I've heard you play with other people."

"They're better than I am."

"I doubt it. Anyway, I'm not asking you to perform. I'd be happy to listen to you mess about a bit."

Hathaway nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

He was good as his word, picking up his guitar during moments of quiet. Lewis asked what each song was; sometimes they were songs Hathaway knew, and sometimes they were songs Hathaway had written.

"For practise," Hathaway explained. "I write pieces too difficult for me to play and then practise till I can play them."

Lewis smiled. "That's very you."

Hathaway smiled back. "I know."

It was getting late, and Hathaway was playing a wistful tune.

"Sounds like something from a cabaret," Lewis murmured, eyes half-closed as he listened. "Should be sung by a woman on a piano."

Hathaway smiled. "It's 'Pour Ne Pas Vivre Seul.'" His voice rippled easily through the French phrase.

"What's that mean?"

"Very roughly, 'So they won't live alone.'"

"Sounds sad."

"It is," Hathaway agreed. "It's got words."

Lewis looked at him. "In English? The French ones won't do me much good."

Hathaway frowned. "No…but I can translate. Don't expect it to rhyme or scan."

"Got it. No rhyming or scanning," Lewis said.

Hathaway began to play, and this time, he sang quietly. Lewis didn't think he'd ever heard Hathaway sing before, and somehow, it seemed to be something very private, as though Hathaway was sharing something he normally kept to himself.

"So they won't live alone,  
some people live with dogs;  
some people live with flowers,  
or beside a cross.  
So they won't live alone,  
some people see a film;  
some love a memory,  
it doesn't matter what.  
So they won't live alone,  
some people live for spring,  
and when the springtime dies,  
they live for the next spring.  
So they won't live alone,  
I love you and I'll wait,  
and I'll believe the lie  
that I won't live alone."

When Hathaway had finished playing, he set aside his guitar. Silence hovered in the air like a bubble, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. It was, however, a melancholy one. Lewis felt as though he were face to face with his own loneliness, and he didn't like what he saw.

He turned to Hathaway to say something, but he saw that Hathaway was staring at nothing, expression empty. Before Lewis knew what he was doing, he'd closed the distance between them and had pulled Hathaway into a hug. He'd expected Hathaway to be resistant somehow, to tense or pull away or ask him what the hell he was doing, but instead, Hathaway went nearly boneless, melting into the hug.

"You're not alone," Lewis whispered to him.

Hathaway whispered something that sounded like, " _Je t'aime and je t'attends_."

Must've been the words of the song. Let's see. _Je_ …that was I, wasn't it? And _et_ was and. So 'I something and I something.' What part of the song had been…?

I love you and I'll wait. Hathaway had just said, "I love you and I'll wait."

"You do?" Lewis said softly.

Hathaway did tense then, pulling back to search Lewis's expression. "I thought you didn't speak French."

"Song lyrics," Lewis said. "You shouldn't have left me clues if you were trying to be inscrutable."

Hathaway smiled, but then the smile vanished. "I didn't mean…"

"Whatever you meant, it's all right." Lewis hesitated, but then he gathered his courage and said, "You don't have to wait."

Hathaway's expression softened, but before Lewis had time to enjoy the sight, Hathaway was holding him close.

"You're not alone either," he whispered in Lewis's ear. "You never were."

Lewis closed his eyes, but the warmth of James's embrace didn't go away. It was still there.

Neither one of them was alone.


End file.
